


The Treasury Heist

by Buntheridon



Series: Tripping on Azerite [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: BfA, Continuation of an actual quest, Dom/sub Undertones, Drinking, F/M, Female Reader, Flirting, Kul Tiras, Mage Player, Multi, Oh I just had to, Oral Sex, Porn with thin plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Respectful and Jovial Threesome, Rogues Do It From Behind, SI:7, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension, Silly, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 20:51:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17066891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buntheridon/pseuds/Buntheridon
Summary: Battle for Azeroth, Patch 8.1 Tides of Vengeance. Alliance war campaign takes you, a heroic mage, to a quest and a scenario - with a pleasant interlude.





	The Treasury Heist

 

“I thought I saw you glance in my direction.”

The deep, confident voice of Master Mathias Shaw caresses your ears. You have been ordered to do a particularly tricky heist to steal back some Tidesage artifact from the Zandalari treasury in Zuldazar. Usually you do these operations alone or accompanied by one other adventurer. This time the Lord Admiral has asked the leader of SI:7 to go with you.

That would be nice and neat, knowing the skills and discretion of the best rogue of Stormwind. But there’s a catch. You need to take that half-pirate scoundrel to the party as well.

Now, you’re not the straightest arrow in the quiver either and definitely not a prude but Flynn Fairwind, in addition to being on the rum most of the time, is an incorrigible flirt. The guy hits on everyone and everything not minding what race, gender or build they are, and that’s fun and jolly and all, but you’ve been on a long and arduous war campaign for weeks without rest. It’s beginning to weigh on you and your normally very well taken care of, shall we say, needs. His antics are mostly entertaining or, at worst, annoying, but you haven’t gotten laid in ages because of this constant working and you are starting to feel the annoyance turn into some other itch. An itch with a solution that might also include some punches in the opening, just for the heck of it.

The thing is - you also are a monstrous flirt. You’ve poked Master Shaw several unnecessary times this week just to get some reaction off him and the stoic rogue does have a sense of humour. You chuckle thinking of what he grunted at you yesterday, not sure if you’re the only one finding double entendre in it - you feel that declaring he has “ways to make you _not_ talk” he soon owes you a demonstration.

But for some reason flirting back to an ex-smuggler dog like Flynn feels dangerous. You know he’d offer to help you in your cravings the second you looked him in the eye the right way. And that won’t do at all. So you’ve been sarcastic at best with the bugger.

You fear he still might recognize your symptoms. The handsome intelligence leader assumably has but he’s a gentleman and probably has some code prohibiting relations within work. Which is why this damned mission is feeling awfully doomed already, no matter the official outcome. Yeah, you could bed either of them - or both! - immediately if it were up to you, but until the war is over you also have to work under both of their command and/or collaboration and it might just become a wee bit awkward if anything intimate would happen. And so, since nothing is permitted to happen you are facing a mission with a cart load of frustration and pent up anger.

You’ve been trying to get a hold of your regular partners but everyone’s so busy these days and no way you are asking a goblin.

The next day you meet them in Xibala. Lord Admiral Jaina Proudmoore, also the most powerful mage of all times, is summoning a hidden portal with the help of magister Umbric. Master Shaw refers Flynn with a title _captain_ , but you’ve yet to see a ship he commands. At least one that is his own.

You step through the portal and appear in the middle of typical troll-esque tomb-like architecture. After navigating the Treasury through rooms with fire and lightning empowered traps and running away from gold monsters you’re finally at the chamber where the Abyssal Scepter is.

“Who the blazes designs this stuff, anyway? Don’t get me wrong, they’re getting points for style, but isn’t this a bit complicated?”

Not facing him you grin at Flynn’s banter. You have to admit the guy is growing on you.

“Fewer quips, more focus, Captain”, Mathias Shaw orders with all seriousness and a charismatic tone of someone who knows how to command.

“Probably some voodoo versed trolls aiming at burning rogues like you, Flynn. No offence meant at your class, Master Shaw.”

The handsome SI:7 leader flashes a smile.

“None taken, champion. Now, can you find the last switch to turn off this fire?”

 _I’ll show you fire, darling,_ you think and then chasten yourself so you might focus on the job. Flynn grumbles something about _champions being allowed to joke but apparently captains not._ You sneak and Blink past the deadly smouldering streams and locate the control switch on a pillar.

Swapping the Scepter to the fake one is easy business with Master Shaw’s trap disabling skills. The problem is the monstrous Bling elemental that emerges after you’ve grabbed the item. The three of you run towards the salvation of the Void-protected portal that - quite literally - magically happens to know when to appear, and jump through it in the last possible second.

“Phew, that wasn’t close at all!”

“Wait a minute. Don’t move!” barks the spymaster.

“Well, this is definitely not Zuldazar.”

“This is definitely… nowhere?” you add to that, looking around the unfamiliar place. You have appeared in a small hut, a bit like those abandoned draenei dwellings in Outland, and an open doorway shows dark starless space outside.

“How is this even possible? Did someone tamper with the portal?”

“Is that even poss--- Wait a darn minute. The Nightborne joined the Horde, right?” You have a feeling you’ve experienced something like this before, in Suramar.

“That is a sound conclusion, although it still baffles me anyone could bypass Lady Jaina’s spells”, Shaw ponders.

“Oh, don’t mind me, I don’t care if I’m completely left out of the coded conversation.”

“Care to explain our assumptions to Captain Flynn, champion? I have to check the surroundings immediately.” Shaw stealthes out of the building.

“There’s a powerful portal technician among the Nightborne elves, a Telemancer named Oculeth. I got to know him a few years ago while on the campaign against the Legion. This deviation feels exactly like some tricks he did to our mutual enemies back then, disrupting portalways and directing demons or other foes to traps or outlandish dimensions.”

“So, you say you were friends with him?”

“Back then, yes. But Tyrande - a night elf leader kind of forgot diplomacy and I don’t know, some centuries old feuds emerged or something - anyways, long story short, Oculeth along with his people is now with the Horde.”

“Right. Magnificent. Where the heck are we? Is this even on Azeroth?”

“I’ll try making hometown portals, hold on.”

Not surprisingly portal spells or hearthstones don’t work. At that moment a small crystal-like device in a corner of the hut starts to hum.

“Well, _that’s_ not alarming at all.”

 _“Hello, is this thing working?”,_ you hear a familiar voice echo from the crystal.

“Yes. Good day, Oculeth. Fancy meeting you again like this”, you drip sarcasm.

_“Hello, champion. I’m sorry about the way I hijacked your trip but my new affiliations--“_

“Yes, yes. Are we to be killed here?”

_“What? No! No, no. They, that is, we just wanted to make sure Ms. Proudmoore doesn’t get the Scepter, at least not yet.”_

The spymaster emerges through the doorway.

“Friends of yours?" You shrug and roll your eyes. He has an update.

"We are on a floating island that’s in the middle of the Twisting Nether as far as I can understand. There’s nothing except this hut. My hearthstone doesn’t work, how ‘bout-- ”

“Nope. Portals neither.”

_“I’ve provided the place with food, water and blankets for a few days. There’s even a washroom I set behind the house. We’ll come to retrieve the object after some other war business has been taken care of. My apologies again.”_

The device hums and clicks to silence.

“Perfect. Just perfect! And I had a date set for tomorrow night.”

“Oh, _that’s_ your grief? My followers will come back tonight and I won’t be there to instruct their next operation. I’ll lose precious reputation points because of this!”

“Will you two quit nagging? You do realize they might mean to attack on Boralus --“

“Sshh! Wait.”

You cast a silencing bubble around the three of you. You all have to huddle closer together for it to cover everyone. You don’t mind, not at all. The brunets emit such lovely masculinity you feel your quim flutter. Uh-oh, this might really become a problem.

“You can never know if they’re still eavesdropping.” You don’t prevent yourself from flashing a flirting smile and Flynn glances at you sharply with his grey-blue eyes. Until now he hasn’t seen you act like this and probably thinks it’s only for the rogue master. Until now you haven’t noticed his eye colour. Shaw’s are piercingly bright green. Their moustaches might be a wee bit annoying and you don’t mean aesthetically. Not that you are ever ending up in any situation where they would scratch you, nope. Not thinking about anything like that _at all._

“Good thinking, hero. Now, what do you make of all this?” Damn that husky voice. You’d keep him talking the whole time if you could.

“I’d be inclined to tentatively trust Oculeth’s word. At least the part that we’re just swept off from bothering whatever operation they have going. Your absence from Boralus is probably what’s most detrimental about us being here, spymaster.”

“Yes, yes, no-one is going to miss us little people. Who cares about island operation specialists, pff! You really think the Horde won’t come and kill us here, where we have no way of hiding?”

“No idea, really. Their honor has been in decline lately.”

“Welp, that’s reassuring! At least I got some rum with me when I die.” The smuggler slash captain slash trickster pulls a pocket flask from his coat and takes a sip. He sounds as sarcastic and funny as ever. You have no way of telling how afraid he really is. Shaw sighs audibly at him.

All three of you wander outside and look at the empty void around you. There really is a small washroom on the other end of the hut. Otherwise - nothingness. Fortunately there’s oxygen and the air's not too cold.

“Could this be one of the Legion worlds we kept finding during the demon campaign? I remember a demon hunter yapping about the vast number of them. Not saying this is a _world_ , it’s just a rock really, but…”

“Possibly, yes.”

“Well, I’m not eating their food. I’ll conjure my own. There’s plenty for everyone if you like.”

“Yes, please.”

You start a campfire in front of the house and you all sit down to nibble the mana buns. You think sternly of your options. You could keep yourself occupied by arranging the content of your backpack… or sorting out old enchanting recipes… or reading from the adventure guide what to do next week, if you happen to be alive then. But that’d fill probably some hours at most. Not saying that the company of the (more or less gentle)men beside you wouldn’t be amusing or soothing. _That’s the problem._ You’ve been on edge since you left and their deep voices, thick biceps, damn handsome bearded faces and manly scents aren’t helping at all. And you're not even _that_ into human males! If you’re not careful you’ll end up being completely and thoroughly entertained.

“You worried, champion?”

“What? No. Yes. I don’t know.”

“You seem agitated, excuse my noticing it. It’s only natural, being agitated before one’s probable death, that is.”

“Shut up, Flynn.”

“Alright, alright, no need to get hostile. I only meant to offer some consolation, you know, a handkerchief, a shoulder rub…” His eyes twinkle and the bastard doesn’t seem afraid at all. His voice has a flirting cadence, a different sort compared to what he uses publicly, much more intimate this time. It hits you straight in the loins and you barely hide the shudder. His hands on your shoulder muscles would feel _heavenly_ right now.

“Oh, don’t be daft. What should we do about the sleeping arrangements, spymaster?”

“Oh, you’re asking _him_ , are you? Well, I don’t blame you, he’s a good-looking fellow and probably absolutely amazing in the sack, being a rogue must have taught him stealth and patience also in---“

 _“FLYNN!”_ You and Shaw both yell at him in unison. You blush so violently it burns your cheeks. _What the helheim?_ You glance at the SI:7 leader under your lashes and to your surprise and absolute delight he also looks embarrassed. You try to draw in breath slowly so as not to let them see how flustered you are.

“I meant who will take the first turn in guarding while the others sleep, but thank you for revealing your silly thoughts, it wasn’t unnecessary at all.” You grin, trying to sound light and funny through your emerging lust.

“Sarcasm, anyone? No? How 'bout some rum instead, then?” He dangles the flask in front of you, grinning widely. Well, damn, even if he took the role of the clown in this, both men can now see your deep blush and will draw their conclusions of it. Unless at least one of them has more important things in his mind, like war strategies or your survival here. You snatch the bottle off Flynn’s hand and take a swig. The liquid is at least 60 % alcohol, it burns so much you don’t even feel it after two seconds as your taste buds shut down under the assault.

“Oof, did you cook this up yourself? It’s very …special.”

“No, but it is a secret pirate recipe and you can buy it only in Freehold - if you are in favour.”

The booze isn’t helping. Even if you watch the flames and try to think of something else your mind is bombarding you with images and ideas of the two men on your skin, kneading you, pressing on you from both sides, pushing slickly into ---

Master Shaw stands up abruptly and declares he will take the first watch. He walks further away, but not too near the edge of the space island.

You are unsure whether or not you heard a hint of breathlessness in his voice. _Oh no,_ was it the high level rogues who could sometimes develop a very, _very_ keen sense of… what was it? Smell or pheromone detection or mind reading? No, that last bit was Shadow priests. Flynn gets up too.

“Fine with me. I’ll take the luxury of bathing, then, as we have nothing to do here and I’m finally staying somewhere with a washroom. I tell you, this place is better equipped than any pirate tavern.”

Left alone at the hut you go in and find the promised blankets. There are enough of them to serve both as mattresses and covers for everyone. You nestle into your makeshift bed and sigh. What you would give to be in Stormwind right now… The lust doesn’t leave you in peace. Checking that neither of the men are in proximity you lift your robe hems squirming under the covers and slip your hand into your underpants. _Oh dang it all,_ you’re swollen and slick and your touch feels so good a whine slips past your lips. You bite them closed and wait for a reaction from the surroundings. Everything is eerily silent, except you think you can hear Flynn singing a shanty on the other side of the wall.

Thinking of Master Shaw’s earlier reaction - the man almost blushed too - you succumb into a dreamlike state and let your mind wander. Has he been alone for long as well? If not, who does he love? _How_ does he love? Would he be like Flynn described, considerate and gentle in bed? Or would his assassin’s inclinations make him quick to attack, precise and on point--- Your fingers circle your slick clit when Flynn’s flirting face appears in your mind’s eye and by the Light you’re almost there already. _Are you thirsty? I’m thirsty._

“So, which one would you prefer?”

Your eyes fly open. You yelp and jump under the covers, quickly pulling your hand out of your panties. Flynn is standing in the middle of the room, half naked, long hair damp and untied, a towel wrapped around his hips. You are a good two strokes away from your orgasm and you’re pulsating _so deliciously_ , and seeing his well formed torso only edges you further. For a drunken ex-pirate he’s in a good shape. He is holding the rum flask in one hand and a bottle of water in another but his face tells you he might have meant something else entirely with his question. Is it just his usual flirt or did he really catch you masturbating just now?

“I was--“ Your voice betrays you, hoarse and thick. You clear your throat. “I was almost asleep.”

“Sure you were. I imagine the dream was a pleasant one.” _Oh damn it._

“It might have been. I think you interrupted it.” You don’t really care anymore. Flynn smirks, flashing teeth and sitting on the heap of blankets near you. His towel shifts dangerously and you are too late to discipline your eyes to behave. Flynn sees it.

“You know, nothing’s preventing you from -“

At that moment Mathias Shaw appears at the door. You feel yourself clench at the sight of him too. You close your eyes, sighing.

“…Everything alright in here?”

“Yes, absolutely! I was just asking her which one she would prefer but I’m not sure she can decide.” He holds the drinks in his hands but his voice lets everyone know what he’s playing at. You pull the blanket over your head and grunt.

_“Oh, leave me alone, Fairwind!”_

“You are not bothering the champion, are you, Captain? I’d hate to be forced to teach you a lesson in - “

“Such serious face, Mathias. I’m only offering my services to our friend here.” He turns back to you. ”You know, I think you could just have both."

You whine at the tone of their masculine voices. Shaw sounds both protective and menacing, which appeals to you wonderfully; Flynn’s voice at the words "services” and "both" drips such sexual undertones you can’t even manage.

“Could I just rest here alone for a while, please?”

“Sure, darling. I’ll bunk over there at the furthest corner and don’t hear a thing.”

“Captain Flynn, I’m losing my patience with your ---“

 _“Oh for fuck’s sake, men!”_ You jump into sitting position and grind your teeth, frustrated. Both of them look at you, mildly alarmed. Flynn recovers first. His voice isn’t teasing anymore.

“That bad, huh?”

“…yeah. You know it would complicate the work if…”

“I know. We _could_ agree on ‘anything that happens in the Nether stays---‘”

You burst into laughter and he joins you. _I’ll show you nethers, you silly long-haired smuggler._

Spymaster Shaw stands in the doorway and looks uncertain.

“I’m not completely sure if I’m following this conversation correctly, but if there’s anything I can do to help…”

An escapee whimper and a spasm in your mentioned nether regions surprise you only mildly.

“It’s up to you, luv. I’m game, I’m sure you’ve known that all along”, Flynn says and then looks at Shaw. You look at Shaw. He watches the two of you and understands. His deep voice is even huskier than usual.

“I… don’t think there’s any sense in keeping watch. We are at their mercy here in any case.”

Your heart has started to beat fast. The anticipation of this really happening makes you breathless and giddy.

“You fine with this, mate?” Flynn stands up and puts his hands on the towel at his hips, ready to drop it whether or not Shaw agrees.

“Not my first ride, Captain.”

"I appreciate your choice of word there."

“Just don’t fight, please”, you laugh, throat tight, clutching the blanket on you.

“I’m thinking the lady needs a quick release before we do anything more… elaborate.”

That’s the spymaster. Both you and Flynn gasp at his words, Flynn more theatrically. Your quim pulsates in agreement. Shaw definitely has some higher sensitivity, you deduce.

“If one of you would be so kind”, you manage to play the “lady” and grin.

“I’m more naked, I win”, exclaims the scoundrel and drops his towel. That reveals a half erect, nicely shaped, very well sized member indeed. The spymaster huffs, laughing, and concedes.

“True, I might as well take some of these off.” He starts unbuckling his belt after placing his daggers within reach, just in case. You watch Shaw undress and then you look at Flynn. He ties his hair back and gets down to his knees beside your nest and pulls the blanket off you. Your robes are up around your hips and your panties are visibly damp. Nodding, you signal him to take them off, lifting your rear. He tosses them somewhere behind him and without wasting time dives between your thighs. You whimper loudly at the touch of his lips on you. He’s moving with a purpose, not teasing or playing, just plainly giving you the release you need. You lay back on the blankets and a sigh becomes a moan as his mouth devours you deeply and his facial hair, bugger it all, actually feels _good_ on you. It doesn’t prickle like you were afraid of but feels more like a fur.

You open your eyes to look at Master Shaw and see he is halfway opening his pants, transfixed, watching the sight of you being eaten. The prominent bulge in his pants is also delightful in shape and size. You were on the very edge already and now all it takes for you to ride the waves is a look into the rogue master’s darkening green eyes and a proper gorging from the pirate. Your wail fills the little hut.

"Yeahh, the girls just _love_ the moustaches!"

"Oh _shut up!_ Can I hit him, Master Shaw? Please?" You giggle, mirth bubbling in you. You feel _wonderful_.

The leader of the SI:7 walks to you, naked, fully erect. Flynn gives him space, feeling there's a special tension at work here. Shaw looks you in the eyes, demanding, dominating with a silk glove. You nod, loving every fiber of the emotional fabric that's slowly woven between you and the men. Shaw kneels between your legs and helps you out of your wrinkled robes and pauldrons.

Fortunately in Azeroth sexually transmitted diseases are a thing in the past with the highest ranks of cure spells and as a mage you have easy access to spells that prevent unwanted pregnancies. Master Mathias Shaw leans over you and enters you raw, slowly, tasting every centimetre breached. Your eyes close and you clutch his shoulders, gasping gently. When he's buried all the way in he starts a slow rocking rhythm that has you whining. He retreats only an inch before sinking back in. You feel you could stay in this for hours.

"That's a bit unfair, Shaw. Learn to share, mate.”

Flynn's humorous but genuine complaint makes you giggle in the middle of the transcendental embrace. Mathias Shaw doesn't appreciate it so much and stops his movements. He’s about to retort when you cross your legs around his hips and urge him to continue.

"Let me have him for a while, Flynn, I need this. Come here." You look at Shaw but reach your hand towards where you heard the maybe-ex-or-maybe-not-pirate captain's voice and your fingers find his belly. You sneak lower along the hairy line - gunpowder line, you’d call it - and grab his rock hard shaft in your fist, sighing contentedly. You hear Flynn grunt with a hoarse voice. The spymaster starts thrusting in you with more vigour and you feel it's to do with rivalry or jealousy - be it as it may, you love it and moan, sliding your hand on the other man's cock at the same beat.

"Shaw - you need to - show me that way - to make - me - _not_ talk", you gasp between his thrusts. Flynn laughs briefly but ends up moaning as your grip on him tightens and you slide your thumb over his wet tip.

Master Mathias pulls out and lifts you up with him, smiling slyly, nudging you to turn around on your knees. Bending you forward and grabbing your hips he enters you from behind with a swift thrust. You keen.

”Ahh, so this is how the rogues prefer doing it? I’ve heard tales…”

”Captain, will you do the honors? Our champion requests to be silenced.” You laugh and gasp and delight at that. Flynn joins the party readily.

”Certainly, spymaster. With absolute and unwavering pleasure.”

You’ve been leaning your hands on the blanket/mattress. The pretty-faced scoundrel moves in front of you, smug. You motion him to also get down on his knees. He does, strong thighs wide, presenting his erect, throbbing cock at you.

”My blade is ready.”

”We need -- to stuff your mouth too if -- the quality of your jokes—” You are being fucked with a steady rhythm in a position that allows Shaw to hit a certain lovely spot inside you thus rendering your speech a bit erratic. On all fours you reach out for the third member of the crew and lowering your head take it between your lips and into your throat. A guttural, long whine comes from the man in front of you, making you smile as much as one can with a thick cock in mouth.

”No teeth now, luv! Say, do you bite when you climax, by any chance? Tap twice for ’yes’.”

”I don’t mind gagging him, I’m fluid”, says the spymaster gruffly behind you. You know the men are at eye level with each other above you and to your delight Flynn doesn’t even flinch at the suggestion, on the contrary, his cock seems to like the idea. _Ohh you buggers, what I will make you do yet._ You hum and slide your mouth along the shaft, sucking, sneaking your other hand to fondle at his balls. At times you grip them just a wee bit tighter. Flynn moans and doesn’t joke anymore.

Shaw slips his hand around your waist and without any detours finds your clit. He plunges into you steadily making your mouth move on Flynn at the same rhythm. When the callous fingers slide over your sensitive, slick nub with that _exact_ pressure and you hear him murmuring your name thickly by your ear you come undone in the most thorough way. You would howl but instead you moan and sob in your throat - around the captain’s cock, which makes him cum along with you and he’s not bashful at all voicing his pleasure. Through your ecstasy you remember not to bite but you do swallow.

Flynn collapses on his back grinning happily. Shaw - or maybe it’s time you start thinking of him as _Mathias_ \- grunts, holds your hips steady with a steel grip and comes in you trembling only slightly, silent like a rogue. You can feel the might of his climax in your attuned state and it makes you _purr._

”You’ve got to be kidding me, mate!”

”Shut up, Fairwind!” You laugh, rolling over to your back after Master Shaw gently pulls out.

”Come _on,_ that’s not any way to—”

”Flynn. He just totally _had_ us both. Show some respect.” Your satisfied grin fills your face. You could go farm Steamwheedle reputation with this energy. You see in his face how Shaw likes your take on the party dynamic. He’s the responsible one retrieving a cloth to clean himself and you.

”How long do you reckon they’ll keep us here?” ponders Flynn, laying sprawled on the heap of blankets. ”I mean, I’m not in a hurry at all, if you—"

The moment is perfect for the Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras and her magister to step into the hut through a portal.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, didn't I just make my own ”working under their command” awkward: Now I just grin stupidly every time Shaw introduces a World Quest or I go on island expeditions :D  
> (If anyone feels any inclination to making a drawing/illustration of that last moment I wouldn’t mind at all xD)


End file.
